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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509549">imaginary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterrenhemel/pseuds/sterrenhemel'>sterrenhemel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canonical Character Death, Declarations Of Love, Imaginary Friends, M/M, Martín is Andrés' imaginary friend during a heist, Martín is dead, Royal Mint heist, Tatiana is a lesbian, They Both Die At The End - Freeform, past Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:54:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterrenhemel/pseuds/sterrenhemel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martín and Andrés, they have history that goes way back. Maybe that's why it is so hard for Andrés to forget about him. Maybe that's why Andrés still sees Martín beside him, as if nothing has changed. But things have changed, and Martín is no longer there. But to Andrés, he still is. Always will be. By his side forever. </p>
<p>Or: Martín is Andrés' imaginary friend, keeping him company in the first heist. Inspired by the prompt of <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/berlermowishes">the berlermo wishlist account</a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>imaginary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The stress and anxiety he felt deep inside of him, were starting to crawl up to the surface, threatening to spill out any moment now. Andrés knew he had to keep his cool, though. He was the leader of the heist, after all. The only one Sergio would trust with something like this, when there were so many things that could possibly go wrong.  </p>
<p>The group had been able to hijack a police car, and Andrés was currently hiding his face from the camera’s they passed. Everything was going as planned, and still Andrés’ heart couldn’t seem to stop racing. </p>
<p>“It’s a panic attack,” he heard someone say from the backseat. He turned his head upwards a little bit, to be able to see him sitting there, in his leather jacket and those ridiculously tight jeans. <em> Martín</em>. His best friend. The love of his life. His soulmate.</p>
<p>“You should try to even out your breathing, Andrés,” Martín continued when Andrés didn’t answer him. “It will help you calm down.” </p>
<p>Andrés nodded once to signal that he’d understood and then did as suggested by Martín. He normally wouldn’t allow anyone to instruct him like that. Andrés didn’t listen to anyone. Anyone, except for Martín.</p>
<p>He took one deep breath, letting the air slowly fill his lungs, and then he paused shortly before he exhaled again. Martín gave him an encouraging thumbs up from the back. He repeated the same action a few more times before he finally felt his heart rate slowing down to a pleasant rhythm again.</p>
<p>When he looked out of the window, he realised they had arrived at the Royal Mint of Spain. </p>
<p>“Thank you, Martín,” he said quickly, loud enough for the other man to hear. Martín just gave him a nod back, as to say, <em> whenever you need me</em>. </p>
<p>Andrés opened the door of the car, and ran inside of the building quickly. The other heist members - all carefully selected by Sergio, even though Andrés questioned the capabilities of some of them - followed after him quickly. </p>
<p>Accompanied by a lot of noise and gunshots, the entire group managed to enter the Mint successfully. Andrés felt adrenaline pumping through his veins, and found himself taking deep breaths without realising it, following Martín’s earlier advice. He and Tokyo, one of the members he trusted the least out of all of them, walked over to the doors, closing and barricading them so it would be impossible for the police to enter. </p>
<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, we are inside,” Andrés said triumphantly, exchanging a look of pride with Martín, who was staring at him fondly.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they made it to the entrance hall of the Mint, Andrés noticed that the other gang members had managed to gather all of the hostages in one place. Andrés saw them standing there, and was about to walk towards them to introduce himself. That was until Martín, right behind him like always, stopped him in his movements by speaking up.</p>
<p>“I think it’s better if you get changed first."</p>
<p>Andrés turned around towards him, raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“Why?” he asked. This earned him a few strange looks from the other woman - Nairobi - and the two Serbs with beards. <em> Right</em>, he figured, they had no idea about Martín’s existence. </p>
<p>That was mainly because Martín didn’t <em> actually </em>exist. At least, not anymore. A small detail.</p>
<p>The Bank of Spain, that's where Andrés had lost him. The idea had seemed wonderful, the execution not so much.</p>
<p>It had been ten years already, but Andrés had never actually <em> let go </em>of Martín. To some, that might have sounded worrying. To Andrés, it was just another part of his life. He couldn't ever let go of Martín.</p>
<p>“You’re looking a bit dishevelled from the running earlier. I think it might be good to refresh your face a bit. First impressions are extremely important, after all,” his imaginary friend said. </p>
<p>“You're right, Martín,” Andrés answered, abruptly turning himself around. He ordered Nairobi to go check on all the hostages, and continued his walk towards the bathrooms. That earned him a few shouts and insults from the woman, confused at his sudden change in plans. Andrés couldn’t blame her, but he also didn’t really care. They still had enough time before starting the next phase in their plan, he could make a little pit-stop. </p>
<p>When he reached the bathrooms, he stepped out of the police uniform first. Martín was right, this outworn, dark outfit wouldn’t earn him a great first impression, even though he looked good in it. He walked over to the mirror, staring back at his own tired face. He splashed some cold water in it, and then carefully combed his hair back into place. </p>
<p>He then took his red overall out of the bag instead, putting it on calmly. He looked to his right, seeing Martín leaning against the wall, adoring him silently, with a small smile tugging on his lips. Andrés liked it when Martín looked at him like that. It made him feel cared for, appreciated, loved even. </p>
<p>Martín had been the person who had always loved Andrés unconditionally. No matter what. Even when he had been dying, he’d been worrying more about the ricochet wound Andrés had received in his shoulder, than about his own life, seeping away through the bullet holes in his chest.</p>
<p>Andrés had never deserved Martín. The universe had agreed with that, and taken him away.</p>
<p>“Look at you,” Martín said fondly, snapping Andrés out of his thoughts. Andrés saw him stepping in his direction, coming to stand face to face with him. He eyed him carefully as he let Martín's hands travel all over his chest.</p>
<p>“You look powerful. Beautiful,” Martín murmured, his hands lingering just a beat too long. He was standing close, closer than Andrés’ brain had ever allowed him to stand after Martín's passing. He didn’t know why he was allowing it now. </p>
<p>Andrés opened his mouth to answer something, but got interrupted by heavy knocking on the door of the bathroom.</p>
<p>“Berlín, where the fuck are you? We’re starting the next phase,” Nairobi yelled from outside. Andrés took a step away from Martín, who was still looking at him in the same way. </p>
<p>“I’m on my way,” he said, taking his Dali mask from the bathroom sink. </p>
<p>“Let’s go, Andrés. Go assert some dominance over those people!” Martín yelled from behind him. Andrés threw him a lopsided smile, feeling a lot better with this wardrobe change. </p>
<p>When he reached the hall again, he could see all the blindfolded hostages standing assembled in lines. He walked down the stairs and let them know his presence by touching the shoulder of a shaking woman. </p>
<p>“Shhh, don’t worry,” he whispered to her. “You’re safe here. Nothing will happen to you.” The woman just whimpered in response, her hands trailing down to her belly. Andrés could see she was pregnant. </p>
<p>He carefully took the blindfold off of the woman’s face, and then continued doing the same to all of the other hostages. </p>
<p>“I think now is the ideal time to give them one of your dramatic speeches,” he heard Tokyo mumble next to him. God, that woman was annoying. </p>
<p>“My speeches aren’t dramatic, Tokyo. Now, <em> callate</em>, and don’t ever speak to your leader like this again,” he said through gritted teeth. He was trying to lead a robbery here, for God’s sake. Tokyo rolled her eyes at that, but decided to shut her mouth nevertheless. </p>
<p>“I mean, she has a point though,” Martín said, standing next to Andrés, seemingly having appeared out of thin air. “Your speeches can be <em> a little bit </em> over the top sometimes. But at least you’ll look good doing them.” he gave him a suggestive wink and turned around again.</p>
<p>Andrés didn't know when he had started allowing his imaginary companion to be his flirtatious old self again. But it made sense, they had been lovers in a different life, after all. </p>
<p>Still, it hurt. It reminded him too much of something that could have been. Something he had always wanted. Him and Martín, forever together.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>They’d only been in the Mint for a few days, when the first problem occurred. Tokyo had tied Andrés to a chair with several pieces of rope, when he had refused to tell her about the emergency plan. She was currently almost finished scattering his medicine all over the floor, because yes, that secret was out too. Andrés had an illness and those flasks were what kept him alive. His weakness was exposed, revealed to anyone who wanted to know. And that wasn’t even the worst part of all of this. The worst part was that Tokyo had decided to play Russian Roulette with him. </p>
<p>“To be honest, you kind of brought this on yourself,” Martín said, sitting cross legged from him on the ground, close to Tokyo’s feet. </p>
<p>“Thanks a lot, Martín,” Andrés said sarcastically, feeling irritated. </p>
<p>“Who the fuck is Martín,” Tokyo asked, raising her eyebrows “Or does your lack of medicine make you hallucinate?” </p>
<p>Andrés rolled his eyes tiredly, her words weren’t going to hurt him, he stood above all of that childish behavior. </p>
<p>“Shut up, Tokyo,” he said, although it was hard, with the pistol pressed to his neck. “Just shut up and do whatever the fuck you’re planning on doing next.”</p>
<p>Tokyo took the gun off his neck, and put a bullet in it carefully. Andrés took this time to take a deep breath without being hindered by the force of the gun. </p>
<p>She spun the gun around, and put it against his neck again. Andrés tried not to show how he was actually feeling. He even laughed, it only made Tokyo angrier. </p>
<p>“Tokyo, Tokyo. You aren’t exactly smart, now, are you?” he asked, clicking his tongue in despise. Tokyo didn’t answer him.</p>
<p>Instead, she pulled the trigger. </p>
<p>Andrés felt the force of the gun against his neck, felt his heart beating like crazy in his chest. His eyes were shut firmly, an indication that he wasn’t as prepared for his potential death as he thought he would be. He slowly opened them again, terrified to find himself covered in blood, but he was met with nothing but a shocked and slightly relieved Tokyo staring back at him. </p>
<p>“What’s your plan, Tokyo? Killing me because I didn’t want to tell you plan Chernobyl? And how do you think that executing me now, will help you in any way? I’m the only one who knows it! Without me, you’re basically dead already!”</p>
<p>"Andrés, calm yourself. This isn't going to work on her," Martín said. Andrés took a deep breath, more annoyed than anything else now, which made no sense, since he was being held at gunpoint. 'Annoyed' shouldn't be his to-go mood.</p>
<p>Tokyo spun her gun again, getting ready for her second chance. Andrés stared at her, refusing to lose eye contact. If she was brave enough to do this, she'd be brave enough to watch him die as well. </p>
<p>She was about to pull the trigger again, when Nairobi burst through the door.</p>
<p>"What the fuck is going on?" </p>
<p>Tokyo detached the gun from Andrés' neck, but kept it pointed at him from a distance.</p>
<p>"<em>Señorita </em> Tokyo here is going to put all of us in danger because she is a little child," Andrés answered, the disapproval clear in his voice. </p>
<p>Nairobi took her gun out of its holster and pointed it towards Tokyo. </p>
<p>"Put it down," she commanded. "Stop this and try to trust Berlín. Like the rest of us."</p>
<p>"But he—,"</p>
<p>"No. I don't care if you think it's unfair that only he knows the plan. <em> El profesor </em> trusted him enough to give him the lead. There must be a reason for that. Learn to respect it," Nairobi answered. That made Tokyo lower her gun and tuck it away again. She stood up from her chair, turning from Andrés, who was smirking triumphantly.</p>
<p>"Now go to the hostages. We have work to do, <em> mierda</em>."</p>
<p>Nairobi walked over to Andrés, an annoyed look on her face. She loosened the ropes around his wrists and let him do the rest himself. Andrés gave her one quick nod, and she disappeared again.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I like her most," Martín said, now standing behind him. "Tokyo is a fucking idiot, though." </p>
<p>"She is, yes."</p>
<p>"Wait until she finds out you and Sergio are related. She'll accuse him of favoritism. She'll use it against you."</p>
<p>"What's she gonna do? Tie me up again? Maybe murder me in my sleep?'</p>
<p>"I actually see her capable of doing that."</p>
<p>"At least I'll finally be with you then," Andrés answered lightly.</p>
<p>Martín fell quiet for a beat. He paced around the room for a while, and then turned around to face Andrés.</p>
<p>"Andrés, I'm being serious. She is dangerous," he said.</p>
<p>"What do you suggest I do?" </p>
<p>"Throw her out," Martín answered. </p>
<p>So Andrés did. Of course he did.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"I heard him call some other guy a homophobic slur," Martín said when they were alone in Andrés' office. He had practically forced him to excuse himself in the hall for a moment and to go sit down here. </p>
<p>Andrés had been shaking all over. He knew it was due to his lack of medication — he tended to forget — and he had assured Martín that it wasn't a big deal, that there were more important things to do than this. But Martín could be persuasive, so here they were.</p>
<p>"Who?" Andrés asked, taking the sterile needle out of the tiny red box, thankful he still had some of his medicine saved that Tokyo hadn't known of.</p>
<p>"That Royal Mint guy. Arturo? Anyway, he sucks," Martín said. "He's horrible." </p>
<p>"And we aren't?" Andrés said, injecting the needle into his arm. </p>
<p>"It's different. A lot. We aren't homophobic, nor are we ugly losers that cheat on our wives, are we?" </p>
<p>"Well—," Andrés said, recalling one particular evening in the monastery, Martín pressed against the wall, their lips in sync to the rhythm of the music in the background. </p>
<p>"That was different! You didn't actually cheat on Tatiana. You said she realised she was a lesbian weeks before we... you know." </p>
<p>"And she is. But we were still married when I kissed you, so technically it <em>is </em> cheating," Andrés said, pressing the fluid into his arm. </p>
<p>"Whatever. That isn't the point, now. I need you to do something about this Arturo," Martín said.</p>
<p>"And what should that be?"</p>
<p>"I don't know, scare him?" Martín said, a smirk on his face."There's still some explosives in the big hall, if I recall correctly. Put them on him." </p>
<p>Andrés threw his head back in laughter. Martín always had the best ideas.</p>
<p>"Let's go," he said, slamming the box shut again. He went to walk next to Martín, and side by side they went looking for the bombs, ready to do what Martín had advised him. </p>
<p>Martín was like his anchor, he gave him stability. Of course Andrés would take his advice. He always did. </p>
<p>Until the moment he didn't.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The cops would be there any minute now and the only way out was through the tunnel. Everyone had already left, except for Andrés, Nairobi and Helsinki. Nairobi saw how Andrés didn't make any move to slip through the tunnel with her, to escape and to start his new life. </p>
<p>"Berlín," she said, for the third time already. Each time her voice trembled more. She was growing desperate, wanting him to come out of there alive. She cared about him, Andrés realised, despite their rocky relationship and their initial hostility towards each other.</p>
<p>"You should listen to her, Andrés."</p>
<p>Andrés' head snapped to his right, seeing Martín standing there. He looked worried. Scared. He had never looked at him like that. Not even in his own last moments.</p>
<p>"I'm not going," Andrés said to both of them. "Someone has to keep the cops busy. It's too late for anything else now."</p>
<p>"But—,"</p>
<p>"No, Nairobi. You have to <em> go,</em>" Andrés said, pleaded. There was no arguing. "Be happy. Live your life. You deserve it. Helsinki, take her with you."</p>
<p>Helsinki took her in his arms and dragged her through the tunnel.</p>
<p>"I hate you," he heard her scream. It was the last thing he heard, raw and full of anger. Of sadness. Betrayal. </p>
<p>"It's not too late yet, Andrés," Martín said. </p>
<p>"For me, this is long overdue," Andrés answered. He took the Browning gun and made everything in the hall ready to protect the tunnel.</p>
<p>"This had been your idea from the start," Martín realised, his voice trembling. "You never planned to escape out of here alive."</p>
<p>"Maybe."</p>
<p>"Why, Andrés?"</p>
<p>"You heard the doctors. I am practically dead already."</p>
<p>"That's bullshit and you know it, Andrés. Your life has meaning."</p>
<p>"Yours did, too," Andrés answered. "But I let you die."</p>
<p>"You didn't. You didn't let me die. I did that all on my own," Martín said, now having taken a seat next to Andrés.</p>
<p>"I should have stopped you. We both knew the Bank of Spain plan was a suicide mission," Andrés said. </p>
<p>"But we succeeded."</p>
<p>"You <em> died</em>," Andrés yelled, outraged. How could Martín be so rational about it, he didn't understand.</p>
<p>"I did. But you didn't. And you took the gold away, like you promised me. I had the most peaceful death someone could possibly wish for," Martín said, caressing Andrés' cheek.</p>
<p>"Riddled with bullets," Andrés murmured.</p>
<p>"The fate you are presenting yourself with too."</p>
<p>Andrés stared in front of him. He couldn't say anything. He didn't dare. </p>
<p>"You and I, Andrés, we are the same. We are soulmates, like you said. Our lives and deaths will always be intertwined with each other," Martín said.</p>
<p>"So, you understand? You get this?"</p>
<p>"I get this. I know that this is what you want. Only this will bring you the peace <em> you </em> crave."</p>
<p>"The peace I have craved ever since I saw you slip from my fingers," Andrés said, his voice hoarse.</p>
<p>"You deserve to rest. I just wish it didn't have to be in <em> this </em> way, Andrés. But I can't force you to do anything because I want it. This is about you."</p>
<p>Andrés could hear the police come down the hall. He turned around the corner, firing at them. Once, twice. Ten gunshots. Maybe twenty. Then he fell back against the wall again.</p>
<p>"Thank you," he whispered, locking eyes with Martín. "Thank you for allowing me." He couldn't really focus on him that properly, his vision had begun to be clouded with tears.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't deny you anything," Martín whispered. "Ever. Not even your own death." </p>
<p>Andrés wiped at his own eyes, seeing his sadness mirrored on Martín's face. Martín would always be there, would understand anything. He always had, even in death. </p>
<p>"I love you," Andrés said. It was so quiet, barely audible over the shooting of guns in the background. But that didn't matter. Martín had heard him loud and clear.</p>
<p>"And I love you, Andrés. I always have," Martín answered. "I will be waiting for you to return home to me." </p>
<p>Andrés looked at him one more time and smiled. </p>
<p>"I wouldn't have it any other way, <em>corazón</em>."</p>
<p>Then he turned his back on Martín for good, rounding the corner one last time. As the police started to fire away at him and the bullets pierced through his skin like he had imagined they would, he closed his eyes, thinking of better days to come. </p>
<p>Days where he would be able to touch and feel Martín again. Days where they could see each other again and talk to each other again without having to fear for a potential ending. </p>
<p>Of the day where time would finally, after all these years, bring them back together.</p>
<p>
  <em> For ever. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! You can always follow me on my <a href="https://mobile.twitter.com/hannib4l">twitter</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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